


Restart

by 29years



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Rebirth, Slow Burn, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-02-29 19:10:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18784384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/29years/pseuds/29years
Summary: Jorah dies in her arms, the next time he wakes up everything is different.





	1. I. Awake

**Author's Note:**

> I have been editing for days, but it is more than likely that something slipped through. You can let me know in the comments.

Jorah died seeing her face for the last time. Now he was Jorah Mormont again. His family had made a tradition of naming the first son Jorah after Lyanna learned of his death and made it herself. Her sons and daughters picked the name from her and the rest that came after followed.

This time he had too many siblings and cousins to count. He was the third son of the Lord of Bear Island. Since his two older brothers were born sickly, his father saved the name for the next one. So it was only luck that he had obtained his name again.

He had one sister and then came Tormund. They were three years apart but because they were the only ones healthy enough to play outside or interested to do it, they were closer. After Tormund came Joel and the others, but Joel had the habit of following them everywhere so Jorah and Tormurd used to take him to play and explore on their backs when he was a little child.

Their father and uncles and aunts were proud of being Mormonts, their island had grown a lot more, especially since they stopped battling the Greyjoys every once in a while. 

The Mormonts were of the best fighters that the Starks had, the other house that rivaled them was House Giantsbane, located where House Umber used to be. At the age of nine his grandfather took him to the training field with his older cousins. Tormund and Joel followed from the safety of their fathers grasped hands.

Lord Mormont showed his son every weapon available in the yard. Axes, spears, swords, arraks, bow and arrows, hammers and knives. He told him to choose one and that that would become his instrument for the rest of his life. He tried all of them and chose a sword in the end. Tormund was too anxious to wait until nine so he begged to be allowed to train too, despite being six years old.

At the age of seven, after constant nagging, he was also allowed to go with his older sister and Jorah. He took an axe and refused any other weapon on the training yard that day. Their sister chose the bow and arrow. In the years to come they would train every morning with their father to use every weapon available and on afternoons they would practice with their own.

"Mormonts have to know how to fight with everything they have on hand so they'll make the North proud", their grandfather said. He also told them that Lord Stark used to go once a while to every House to see which were the best fighters so he could take them to Winterfell and train them himself. That was the greatest honor that the boys thought they could receive.

When Joel was nine, he chose a spear. No one even tried to choose those ones. Tormund laughed about it.

"Don't you see the doors on this castle?" He pointed to the wooden carved doors. "They have axes, bows and swords. What kind of Mormont are you?"

"The best one." Jorah answered, smiling at his little brother. Joel beamed.

Jorah had blonde hair, blue eyes and a lean body. Where Tormund was a broad shoulder ginger with blue eyes. Joel had Jorah's complexion with Tor's shoulders but still managed to be lean.

The first time Lord Stark called the Bear Islanders to his Halls and they were taken with the others, they were excited. Jorah was fourteen and Tormund eleven. Joel stayed behind with their younger siblings.

Lord Mormont took Jorah aside before arriving.

"I know that you are not the oldest, but your brothers still cannot travel this far, so the responsibility of showing the other Houses what a Mormont is, relies on your shoulders. They will be measuring you, don't show any fear, son."

Jorah nodded solemnly.

"Also, our House might be strong but it's not wealthy. The richer boys could try to mock you…"

"I won't let them." He replied hurriedly.

"I know, son. Remember our House's words. Here we stand. Always."

"Yes, father."

Lord Stark was impressed with his abilities with the sword so he offered to take him and train him with his own sons. Lord Mormont agreed instantly, clapping his son on the shoulder with mirth on his expression. Tormund moaned all the way back to Bear Island about the unfairness of it all.

"What am I supposed to do now? Spend my time with Joel and his spear? When will you come back anyway?"

"I'll be allowed to come back once or twice a year. Don't worry, you will come too. Do try not to hack Lord Stark's son's head next time."

"He was too slow, it's his own fault." Tormund grouched.

At fifteen, he was one of the best fighters Lord Stark had in his training yard. He could use all size of swords and knives. Lord Stark was so happy with his development that he let him go home a fortnight before his time. Tormund was exhilarated, he complained that Joel started spending more time with their cousins, obviously he didn't mention that it was because of all his teasing.

The two of them had spend the entire day resting under the sun. Tormund suddenly got up, with a gleam in his eyes.

"Let's go to the weirdwood tree, Jor."

He lazily opened an eye and looked at his brother. 

"It's on the other side of the island. No one goes there anymore."

"Let's go anyway."

He looked at Tormund and knew that he was going to go anyway because if he didn't his brother would go alone. He slowly got up and took his satchel with that days hunt.

"Alright."

They walked for hours teasing each other and laughing. They didn't noticed that they couldn't hear animals anymore or that even the sound of the stream had quietened. When they reached the tree, Jorah kept having the feeling that he was being watched and it prickled the hairs at the back of his head. He didn't say anything to Tormund so he wouldn't seem weak in front of the fearless ginger.

They were rounding the tree when a little opening showed up, it was big enough to crawl inside.

"That wasn't there before." He said out loud.

"Then let's see what we can find." Tor was already going under. He begrudgingly went after his brother.

The inside of the tree seemed bigger than the outside, and Jorah wondered how that was possible.

"Weirdwood trees have that ability." A voice answered.

Tormund looked at him, he wasn't the only one that heard it. That was a comfort. Even if they couldn't see anyone around. A set of brown eyes opened in front of him, and that's when he saw him, a boy his age, looking straight through him.

"Hello." The boy said, he looked as if the tree had been growing around him and he didn't bother to move, so the roots trapped him in it. He was siting on a wooden chair that had roots, leaves and flowers on it. Almost everything was covered in green musk.

"Hello." Tormund answered back. "Who are you?"

"The Three Eyed Raven." The boy stared at the red haired one and Jorah, and added. "But you used to call me Bran."

Jorah already had his hand on his knife. He was mistrustful of someone they had never met, they were on an island, it was impossible not to know everyone.

"You won't need that. Not now though."

"When did we met?" Tormund pressed. Jorah thought that his fearlessness was going to get him killed someday.

"A long time ago. I can show you if you want." He extended a hand towards them.

"Tor, we need to go." He tried to pull his brother back, but the other was already reaching for the hand. His eyes turned white and Jorah took his knife when his own eyes turned. A voice inside his mind told him to calm down.

It was as if he awakened after his death. In what seemed like forever he saw his entire previous life and death. He opened his eyes to look at his hands, the blood and mud of the battlefield not there anymore. But her screams still echoed through him, that made him shiver. He could almost feel every cut and stab under his skin, it made him itch.

Tormund on the other hand was smiling maniacally. He lunged at him laughing.

"Mormont!" He screamed. It took Jorah only a second to realize the way he said it.

"Giantsbane?" He was bewildered. The other laughed even harder.

"How is this possible?" He looked at Bran Stark, who had not aged one bit, stuck in time.

"I don't know. All I know is that I knew I would see you again."

Why? He asked himself, he couldn't believe it yet.

"Are there others like us?"

"Awake? No, you are the first ones. But the others will know eventually."

"The big woman?" Tormund asked instantly. Jorah admired him for it, he didn't dare ask about Daenerys.

"Yes." Bran smiled.

"Ha!" Little twelve year old Tormund celebrated. Jorah still couldn't believe it.

"They are coming, aren't they?" He gathered the courage to ask.

"They are." Bran stared at him.

"How will we know who is who?" He was worried about the possibilities, a reminiscence of the older warrior lingered inside his mind.

"When you touch them or when someone else already awake touches them, they'll awaken."

"So we are here to awake the others?"

"Partly, also, I liked the weather in this island."

Tormund laughed even more in joy.

"When will we meet the others?"

"That depends on you. But you might find a few in Winterfell."

"That's in a few weeks. Who will I meet?"

"Sandor Clegane and Jaime Lannister surely. The Starks could be there. Probably Thoros of Myr and Beric Dondarrion, depends on their families staying or not in Winterfell by the time you come back."

"When will I meet the woman?" Tormund asked eagerly.

"When you turn 15 if everything goes as I see it."

Tormund celebrated again. Jorah repressed a laugh. They talked with Bran for hours. He answered almost every question they had and for some of them he has a cryptic reply. In the end, he told them that it was getting dark and that they should go back to the castle.

"Be careful with this gift. Some may think you insane if you tell." He warned them before they left. Both agreed to keep it to themselves.

On the way back Tormund showed signs of being the old wildling he had met before. He was even more merry than he used to be.

"Why didn't you ask about her? The Queen?" Tormund turned to look at him.

"I would rather it to be a surprise." He lied, the truth was that he was scared.

"Well, when I meet the big woman I'm going to court her."

Jorah looked at his little brother, Tormund Giantsbane now, and half smiled. He seemed comfortable being both at the same time. 

He on the other hand was struggling to accept the old Jorah. The memories he had seen seemed more like a dream than a reality. Besides the House counted on him to do the right thing, and even if his father didn't say it, he was being prepared to become the next Lord Mormont in case something happened to his brothers. He couldn't fail his family this time, he had a duty to fulfill. Daenerys would have to wait, he was still young and he wanted to take advantage of it before even meeting her.

The next weeks he spent them with his family. Specially Joel, the boy had grown taller in the year he was gone. He watched him train on the yard with the spear. It was as if he was born with one on his hand.

"Do you think he's Grey Worm?" Asked Tormund who had scurried beside him.

"I don't know, we should have asked Bran about it."

"We can ask him now." Tormund's little eyebrow lifted suggestively. Too used to agree to his brother's schemes he said yes automatically.

Bran told them that no, he wasn't Grey Worm but that he would bring him into their lives again. Jorah also asked about the awakening, how did it work mostly.

"You will know when you touch them. Some will bring only their memories of them back into you mind, others will bring also the feelings that your old self used to have for them. In some cases you will feel the pain of an old wound. It depends. The same could happen to them."

He got even more worried. If he found her and touch her… He could go through all of his emotions for her again. He left the tree a bit sullen, thinking about it.

When it was time to go back to Winterfell his father told him that Tormund would accompany him. He had the task of keeping him safe, now even more that the wildling had come back. They left with their uncle to Winterfell early in the morning. Jorah watched the castle from the ship until the entire island disappeared from sight. He hoped things were better this time.


	2. The Giantsbanes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes just a touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments, it helps me to keep going.

_Winterfell_

On the training yard he could see Tor fighting and the twelve year old became crazier than ever before. Jorah's plan of being unnoticed was forgotten after his brother boasted that they could take down anyone in Westeros. He casted his eyes down, ashamed with all the attention directed at them.

Two brothers from house Giantsbane challenged them. He had to abandon his position on the sidelines to stand next to his own brother. The other two were similar to them, the fourteen year old used swords and the fifteen year old an axe. They fought until Jorah's lungs burned with the exertion of trying to keep Tor from getting too hurt. Lord Stark stopped the fight and called it a tie.

Jorah had bruises on his torso and cuts on his arms and face. The maester told him that the scars would fade, they were barely noticeable. He looked at his brother, Tor had a black eye already and didn't seem to mind. _'How am I going to keep him safe if he does this again?'_ , he worried that his brother died accidentally during training and his father would not take that kindly. The other boys nodded at then and left to their rooms.

That afternoon they were lazing in the godswood. It was a place were they always knew to find each other if they weren't in their room. Jorah kept trying to get the younger Mormont to put something on his eye to lower the swelling. The other dismissing him with a wave of his hand.

"I've gotten worse trying to cross the Wall."

"You weren't twelve when you did it. And father expects me to keep you safe."

"You are older than him, remember?" Tormund laughed. Jorah begged with his eyes. The other huffed and took the ointment from his hand.

"I swear, Mormont…" He complained. Jorah gave him a pat on the shoulder to placate him.

* * *

 

The Giantsbane brothers found them, they approached them and offered a skin to them. _'The previous Jorah would have been more careful before drinking'_ , he thought as Tor took a swig from it. The ginger cackled.

"Sour goat's milk!" The little Tormund gleamed, passing it back. His fingers brushed the taller Giantsbane and both froze.

"Oh, for fucks sake!" The brown haired boy complained sitting angrily on the snow.

"Still afraid of fire are you?" Tormund giggled. Jorah and the other were confused, although his confusion was only momentary.

"Touch him", the ginger ordered pointing to the blonde Giantsbane. Jorah acquiesced, memories of his past life connected to the other flooded him.

Jaime awoke screaming in pain, the hand that Mormont had clutched in his oaf of a hand was the one he lost. He held his wrist to his chest, the echo of the pain still there. Jorah tried to be apologetic.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realised." He grimaced.

"Yes, yes, I can tell." He rubbed the entire limb as if afraid to lose it. Tor touched his other hand to see who he was.

"The Hound and the Kingslayer, how good to see you." Tormund's boisterous voice resonated on the empty Godswood.

"Of course." Said Jorah, how could he not notice that they looked exactly the same as before. While he was thinking, Sandor sneaked a hand to his head, already understanding how this worked, and he had a recollection of every moment he saw, talked or spoke to Sandor or about him. He had met Jaime around this age during the rebellion, the Lannister had only a different haircut. Sandor was harder to recognize without half a face burned.

"Of all the people to see, neither of you fuckers would be my first choice, or last."

"At least it's us and not an enemy." Jorah commented.

"Yes, like your former brother." Tormund took another swig from the skin that he blatantly stole from a distracted Clegane. Sandor saw him drinking it.

"Ugh, I can't believe I like that piss now."

Jaime recomposed himself and stared at the three of them.

"How and why did this happen? Not that I'm complaining. I could be spared of the pain, thought."

The Mormonts stared at each other. Tormund was the one who answered.

"Bran Stark."

Jaime looked flabbergasted.

"The baby?" A new Stark had been born that same year.

"The Three Eyed Raven." Jorah added.

"He's still alive? How old is he now?"

"He looks the same as us, young, as if he never grew old." Tormund told him.

"This never ends." Sandor grumped lying against a tree.

They updated them on what Bran had told them about more people coming back. Jaime wanted names and they could only give the ones that the Raven had given willingly. The others had to be found by them.

"Beric Dondarrion? Does that cunt never die?" Sandor was on a sour mood.

"What about my brother and sister?"

"We don't know. We will only know if we start shaking hands with every person we meet on Westeros from now on." Jorah said.

"That could take forever. We have to touch every peasant, noble and traveller that touches this land. And even then some people might be leaving Westeros right now as we speak." Jaime moaned.

"It's the only way."

"This is a nightmare. You said something about some Starks being here?"

"Yes, he told us the Starks would be at Winterfell."

"Arya Stark is the one we need." Sandor and Tormund agreed but no one told Jorah why she was so important.

It was dark when Lord Stark found them talking at the Godswood and he was proud to see they didn't have any resentments between them because of what happened earlier. He send them off to eat something and sleep ending their conversation.

* * *

 

Back in their room, Tormund started to rant.

"I can't believe those two get to be Giantsbane when I'm a Mormont." The last part was almost leered.

"You are a Giantsbane, our grandmother is one, and so is our own mother."

"That doesn't count." Tormund hissed.

"What's so wrong with being a Mormont?" He didn't want to sound hurt but his tone betrayed him.

"There's nothing wrong, it was my name first. What would you feel if some pisspoor Southerner from before had your name and you were a Lannister?"

Tormund kept ranting for an hour more, he just made remarks here and there. In the end, the ginger calmed down and went to his bed.

He was about to turn the light off when he talked. Jorah was about to fall asleep.

"I'm not ashamed of being a Mormont. Maybe before meeting you I would have because of your father, but after what you did? I could never be ashamed."

"Thank you, Tor." That was all he could say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages:  
> 15 Jorah  
> 15 Sandor  
> 14 Jaime  
> 12 Tormund


	3. The Reeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more, the merrier, except for Sandor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hated the ending of GoT so this is my way of coping.

The next morning Jorah walked into the Great Hall to find Jaime shaking every single hand he could find, sometimes even twice. If he was still a Lannister people might find it odd. After all, the Southerners still had the reputation of believing themselves to be better than everyone. Sometimes even among them. He ignored him and sat down to eat. Tor came trotting happily with a sour Sandor behind him. A little later Jaime sat next to him in a huff.

"No one. I've found no one."

"It's only the first day."

"And I haven't tried the courtyard, the commoners, some of the Starks or the children."

"Are you going to start knocking door to door?" Tor asked with bored eyes.

"That would be a good idea."

"We can't go door to door, we'll be found. And stop touching everyone, you're going to contract something, and it's weird." Sandor complained.

"Why I'm the only worried here?"

"There's still time left." Jorah said.

"How do you know?"

"The end of Spring has not been announced yet and last time they came with Winter"

"Yes but…"

"Shut your drivel. I need to eat in peace." Sandor snapped.

In the courtyard he started doing the same thing. 'Maybe we should do it too', Jorah thought to himself as Jaime went from person to person introducing himself, making absolutely sure that he touched people's skin instead of clothes or gloves. Tormund snorted when he saw him touching someone's head since the man was completely covered in clothes.

"Of all the brothers I could get, I got the dumb Lannister." Sandor grouched.

"Shouldn't we do the same?" Jorah asked to no one.

"We will meet them when it's the fucking time."

"I always liked you." Tor's eyes glinted.

Sandor huffed and angrily walked to Jaime to drag him out of his self imposed task to go training.

* * *

 

They spent the rest of the days training harder than before, the knowledge of what was to come was the thing that kept them going. For a long time it was just the four of them and it seemed like that was going to be how things were now. Jaime grew more and more desperate, he actually started visiting farmers at some point.

Many moon passed until they found someone else. Sandor actually was the one who did the finding. Some of the Lords were going to Winterfell to talk with the Warden of the North. Lord Reed brought his heir and two of his youngest sons, aged twelve and fourteen.

Sandor had been escaping Jaime's attempts to join him on his hunt for others like them when he tripped into one of the boys. The twelve year old fell sprawled on the floor and Sandor groaned. Thinking about no one seeing him almost running over a child he took him by the collar and picked him up. He dusted his shoulders off with a little more force than intended.

"Alright, here you go, nothing's wrong." Looking over his shoulder to see if someone noticed he catched Jorah's eyes on him. Mormont walked towards them.

"You know that just a handshake would be enough, don't you? You don't have to kill them to know who they are."

Sandor huffed annoyed, "the little shit put himself in my way". After Jorah's look of disapproval he offered his hand to the boy. "Sandor Giantsbane", he gruffed out.

"... Reed". The boy mumbled. Once their hands locked, the little kid stared wide eyed at the two of them for a second.

Sandor half screamed in anger calling for Jaime and left swearing to the training yard. Jorah stared after him for a second when the boy offered his hand. He warily took it, and Beric Dondarrion's face went to the front of his mind.

"It's good to see you alive, Mormont." Little Beric said.

"You as well, he smiled." At that moment Jaime and Tormund came back trotting behind a still swearing Sandor, who turned around instantly and left.

Jaime didn't wait a second to touch his head. "Thank the gods, I thought we were going mad". Tormund touched him and started laughing.

"Who else is with you?" The ginger asked.

"I wouldn't know, just came back. I like seeing with both eyes". He closed his old good eye to see everything with the other and beamed pleased with his eyesight.

Sandor showed up bringing the fourteen year old Reed hanging of his shoulder. He unceremoniously put him down in front of Jorah.

"Touch this one", he half panted. Both Jorah and Jaime put their hands on his head, one in hesitation and the former Lion in excitement.

"Thoros of Myr", they said.

Sandor screeched that time. "The two most useless fucks of Westeros".

Beric stared at his brother. "I don't see Thoros of Myr, I see Thoros Reed, though I can remember Myr". His brother nodded.

"You have to touch each other", Tormund hugged their shoulders and winked. Both looked appalled for a second.

Jorah laughed. "He means just a touch".

* * *

 

It took all afternoon to get Clegane to shake hands with Thoros. He did it begrudgingly and threatened to axe him if he tried to talk about his god.

The Reeds convinced his father and Lord Stark to let them stay to train in Winterfell. It didn't take long since just the memory of their fights was good training. Not that they hadn't used a sword before, both were skilled. Their room was located across the Giantsbanes, that caused the Hound to sulk for days.

Jaime on the other hand was too happy to see more people so his brother's mood didn't bother him. He spend his time training ambidextrously, he didn't want to make the same mistake as the first time. He told Jorah to do the same, the islander thought that it didn't hurt to do it, so he started to train with two swords.

"I think we all should do it", he commented one day in the godswood. "I lost my good hand the last time and had to train for ages to be half as good as before".

The rest had been listening to him for days so they didn't want the speech again. Sandor was about to complain...

"I mean, this time has to be worse than that one if this is their third time coming and WE are here again. Are the fighters here not good enough? How are we going to be better than two living dragons?"

They couldn't really find an argument against it, so they conceded that they would try to do it.

Jorah didn't want to put more pressure on them, after all some of them were too young to think about war again. Tor saw he was repressing his comment, having him for a brother made the redhead understand him better.

"What is it?"

Jorah glanced at him. "It's nothing".

"It isn't nothing if you look like someone stole your woman."

He sighed. "What if this time there's also another war coming?"

"We could ask Bran."

Beric perked up at that. "The Stark boy in the wheelchair?"

Jorah nodded. They all agreed to go back to Bear Island next time the Mormonts were allowed to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages  
> 15 Jorah/Sandor  
> 14 Jaime/Thoros  
> 12 Tormund/Beric  
> 11 Joel


	4. Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit and something else.

_Winterfell_

Jaime had a list of Northern Houses and the members he could remember. His house was already crossed off the list for obvious reasons, they knew everyone. Maybe only two people per house were from old Westeros, that would make his work easy. Asking Bran would be a good idea.

He couldn't feel anything close to guilt for what he had done that time, it was difficult to be Jaime Lannister after fourteen years of growing up in the North. His father this time was the merriest man in the world in the Hall but the toughest in the yard. It was impossible not to love him, and even more considering how Tywin had been, loving with him and hateful with Tyrion. Lord Giantsbane didn't like weakness but he treated all his children with the same warmth, all ten of them. He liked this life, all the weight of being an heir relayed on Sandor's shoulders and he felt freer.

Sandor was a good older brother, better than he had ever been. He didn't stand aside as people tried to belittle them for being wildling descendants. It happened often with the Houses of the South, never in the North. House Giantsbane was respected for knowing how to survive. How strange it was that they were both two proud northerners, and brothers.

He had absentmindedly been thinking about Tyrion as he walked in Winterfell when a little girl ran into him. He apologized to the little Stark and left.

* * *

The time to go to Bear Island arrived and the Mormonts were getting ready for the trip. The Reeds and Giantsbanes had sent ravens home to inform their families that they were not coming back. Lord Reed was not happy about sending two of his youngest to the island so he sent one of their older brothers to accompany them.

On the ship Tormund was getting giddy, they would see Joel and their new baby brother or sister, his father hadn't said. His excitement influenced Jorah as well, he couldn't stop smiling and Thoros wine helped, it made him feel warm.

Tormund tried to take the skin, he slapped his hand away. "You are too young".

"I used to drink at this age".

"I'm not delivering you to father drunk, he'll have my neck".

"Fucking Mormont", the ginger complained but relented.

Beric took the wine from Thoros and drank slowly just to cause Tormund distress. It cause the redhead to huff even more loudly.

"Why does he get to drink? We are the same age".

"He's not the one meeting his father today, and he shouldn't be drinking so much either". Jorah took the skin away from them and put it away on his satchel. Thoros already had another skin in hand, but refused to share in case Mormont decided to take that one too.

* * *

_Bear Island_

Lord Mormont received them on the docks. Jorah knew that their father had missed them, so he accepted the embrace even a Sandor and Jaime cackled behind him. Tor didn't care, he practically jumped from the ship into his father's arms. He updated them on what happened on the island, how Joel was and that they now had a baby sister.

"Another girl", Tor moaned. "There is going to be more of them now".

"Your sister says she'll make sure that the baby is a better fighter than you". Tormund scoffed, causing his father to smile.

* * *

They ate dinner in the Great Hall with all of the Mormonts. Sandor saw the children barreling beside him. "There's more Mormonts than people in the Starks courtyard".

Jaime followed his gaze, "When our father finds out there's another Mormont he'll be livid. I'm sure he's already trying to produce another Heir. He won't stand for other Lord to have more children than him".

That caused Sandor to snort. "We should bet. I say it will be a boy".

Jaime narrowed his eyes, "That's too easy, out of ten only the last one was a girl. You'll win".

"Maybe, maybe not".

"Fine".

* * *

Jorah's mother came to him before bed. "Would you like to meet your sister? Tor saw her just a moment ago."

"Yes", he went to the nursing room after her. His mother placed the tiny girl in his arms. He stared at the little baby that yawned with a smile on his face. "Another blonde one, father must be thrilled".

"He is, after so many with my hair this one is a surprise. The last blonde one was Joel". They sat in silence listening to the cracking of the fire, Jorah playing with the small fingers in his hand.

"Have you noticed something?" His mother asked. He was confused about the question, the girl seemed fine. "Her eyes, Jorah, look at them".

He got closer to the fire and saw that the irises of her eyes had streaks of purple closer to the pupil and almost blue on the further side. "I didn't knew we had Targaryen blood on our family", he joked.

His mother hummed. "My grandmother used to say that we had dragon ancestors in our blood."

He had never heard the story before, or had never paid attention to his elders telling them. Maybe he should ask the Raven about it. He stayed until the baby fell asleep and passed her carefully to his mother. He kissed then both goodbye and went to bed early, the next morning the others wanted to go to see Bran with the first rays of sunlight.


	5. The Three Eyed Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran gives them some news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, if someone catches an orthography or syntaxis problem, let me know in the comments.

Bran was waiting for them in his tree. Beric was fascinated and wouldn't stop poking the roots around him, the Stark didn't care. Jaime had too many questions that needed answer. He had his list of Northern Houses with him, Sandor stood behind listening.

What they now knew is that most of the people that would come back had a least someone else paired up with them, the possibilities of meeting them increased the older they were. Bran couldn't tell them the exact names because finding them depended completely on their actions and he only saw the six of them for sure and maybe a few else for now.

'At some point we'll have to leave either Winterfell or the North entirely', Jorah thought. Jaime was getting frustrated, years would pass until they could all leave the North if they didn't find anyone else around and since they had agreed to leave together, they needed more money than any of them had. 

"We could send ravens to each other", the Lion was murmuring. "It would be safe".

"Yes, it could be a good way of communication if you cannot make the trip here". 

Thoros voiced the question that had brought the six of them to Bear Island. "Is there a war coming besides the one with the Night King?" 

Bran stared at him, "Yes". 

Sandor asked, "Just one?"

"You could say. An invasion is being planned across the world, it will start in the coasts of Dorne and they are planning to attack more than one coast after. The King will call for help from the Seven Kingdoms." 

"In how many years time?" 

"Three or four." 

"Will we be involved?"

"That depends if you answer the call or not." 

"How long will it last?"

"That is something I don't know yet." 

They made the trek back to the castle in silence. Jorah thought that he had only a few years of peace if this was truly happening. He looked at the others, even Tor was sulking, if they went to the war, they might not live this second life long enough. It wasn't the best way to die, young and far away from home knowing that their families would have to deal with the Night King without them.


	6. The Little Starks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking about writing longer chapters. Not now, thought.

They were back in Winterfell on the training yard. Sandor made a bet against Beric and Thoros that he could take the two of them alone. He was overconfident because he had won every one on one fight that day, also cause the Reeds looked like "two little shits" next to him. At fifteen he was closer to his height than the two of them, so it seemed easy.

Thoros accepted the bet and both Reeds took out their swords. The other three sat on the stands to watch.

"Who do you think will win?" Tor asked them.

"Sandor has strength on his side, but I have seen them train, they fight as one. If he is smart, he could win." Jorah said.

"If they even think about lighting those swords on fire he'll lose. The other day he recoiled from a candle." Jaime snorted, causing Tormund to laugh out loud.

As they were waiting for the fight to start a group of little Stark children went to sit on the stands near them. A boy around five brought his little siblings with him to sit on the stand behind them.

Jorah eyed them. "We could move if you want to see better". They had plenty of space to sit and had chosen the only place where three people were towering over them.

Tormund complained. "I'm not moving, they should have chosen better".

Jaime turned to look over his shoulder, he was sitting between the Mormonts, and the eyes of a little two or three year old stared at him. Something Sandor screamed made him turn back around.

Jorah still tried to convince the children to switch places but the older boy refused repeatedly. Tormund told him to forget it, that the fight was about to start.

It took the Reeds twenty five minutes to lose. What Sandor had in muscles they had it in synchronization. It was by luck that the Hound hit Thoros on the nose while swinging his axe, since he was standing right behind him. After that the fight took a turn and both Reeds ended disarmed, one with blood all over his shirt.

"I think it's broken", Beric said trying to look up Thoros nose. They made their way to the stands and stood talking with the Mormonts.

Sandor went around to boast about his victory, Beric called it sheer luck. Jaime half listened to the conversation, with his elbows on the bench behind him. The children were bickering, so his mind was half focused on that too. That was the cause of him hearing the whispered voice of the little girl.

"Jaime Lannister".

He froze. Slowly he turned around and looked at the little girl who had been staring at him before. Jorah glanced at him seeing his pale face.

"What's wrong?"

"She called my name." Jaime pointed his finger to the little girl.

"Stay away from my sister", the little four boy tried to run with the girl, their older sibling stayed sitting without a care in the world.

Tormund was quick to grab the runner, with his hand on the boy's mouth to avoid someone to hear. "Ow! He bit me!" He screamed.

"Do not let him go!" Beric said.

The others were around the little girl in a second. A two year old was nothing to them but her high pitched scream made them stand back.

"Someone shut her up, the last thing we want is Lord Stark to see us roughhousing with his children". Jorah warned.

Every time one of them tried to touch her, she screamed. Sandor grew tired of it.

"You bunch of useless cunts", he picked her up, while she tried to kick him with her little legs. Her tiny fist of a hand touched his eye...

Both stayed quiet. The little girl started cackling and Sandor growled in frustration. "You little bitch".

He motioned to the others and told her to shake their hands. Every time she would whisper their names to herself. When Thoros came, she tried to launch herself at him to hit him. In Beric's turn he felt as if someone was biting him and stabbing him at the same time. He started falling when Thoros grabbed him by the collar of his clothes. Her smile stopped and she sulked with her head on Sandor's shoulder.

"I don't know this one". Tormund hauled the boy he had onto Jorah's arms. He put his hand on the boys head, memories of conversations with Daenerys came to his mind but not the memory of his face, they had never met. 'The King in the North' was something he remembered most.

"I think this is Robb Stark, but we have never met. Maybe that's why you don't know him either?" He asked his brother.

"We've met him before", Jaime said pointing to Sandor and himself.

After coaxing from Jorah and reassurance from Tormund that nothing would happen, Robb let Jaime touch a finger to his head of curls.

"It's him", the Giantsbane confirmed.

"Who is the other one?" Tormund asked pointing to the one who was still sitting in place. The little five year old had a crooked smile on his face, his curls covering his eyes.

Beric sat beside him and offered his hand. A second later he told them, "Theon Greyjoy".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages:  
> 5Theon  
> 4 Robb  
> 2 Arya


	7. VII. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb want's to know more. Arya drives Sandor insane and the Reeds are not helping him.

They were gathered in the Godswood where it was safe to talk after letting the children go.

"How are we supposed to tell them what Bran warned us about?" Jorah asked.

"I think Theon will understand, the other two I don't know", Jaime replied. He was excited because they had Arya.

"We should be more worried about you waking them up without paying attention!" Sandor wanted to whack him with a hammer.

"How did that happen anyway?" Jorah had his hand on his eyes, worried that this could occur again.

"I think I ran into Arya right before leaving to Bear Island, since I was thinking about the people we are looking for… I didn't notice the memories". He was feeling a little guilty about it.

"Someone has to impress into them the importance of keeping this to themselves, otherwise our time here could shorten to days if Lord Stark believes what they say and he fears what he doesn't understand", Thoros added.

The group agreed on letting Sandor try to talk to Arya, thought it was pointless since she was only two years old. Jorah would explain to Robb in the simplest words. And finally, Beric and Jaime would tell Theon what to do. The little Greyjoy was the best chance they had to convince all three children. Although Arya had been on The Long Night.

 

**~*~**

Theon nodded his wild curly light brown hair as they talked. He swore he wouldn't say anything and that he could convince Robb to stay silent as well. Arya was not a problem since her talking was not developed yet. The little five year old Stark convinced his brother to shut up by offering his desserts at every meal for a long time to him. The four year old was not happy but having extra desserts helped a lot to change his moods.

 

* * *

 

Little Robb Stark took a liking to spending time with the Mormonts. He loved to hear Tormund's stories about Jon and living beyond the Wall and wanted to hear them all the time. He also liked to see Jorah on the training yard and would sit with a wooden sword clutched in his little hands watching with avid attention. The older Mormont would sit afterwards and show him easy moves for him to practice. Lord Stark was proud that the boy seemed so interested in fighting at such a young age.

Theon and Arya would sit there too, one in disinterest and the other half paying attention half staring at people. Mostly she watched the Reeds.

"It's getting creepy", Beric said from his place beside his brother.

Thoros just laughed. "She's two, how dangerous can she be?"

"You didn't see her fighting, she looked like a trained assassin, not a Northern Lady or a fighter. It would have been terrifying if she wasn't on our side."

Thoros gave him an amused look, "Well, if she kills you I can ask the Lord of Light to bring you back".

"Only for her to kill me again", he huffed.

 

* * *

 

Sandor was getting bored of the same yapping every day. Tormund with his strange stories, the Reeds with their Lord of Light and Jaime with his obsession to find everyone he could were driving him insane. He started to go around on his own to avoid them at all possible times. The only thing he couldn't run from was the pesky little girl that had a habit of finding him in every meal. Lord Stark found it endearing. He wanted to strangle her. It didn't help that the Septa was older than the Godswood, the girl ran away from her all the time.

After the eleventh time, he stopped trying to get rid of her altogether. It was funny to see the surly teen walking around the training yard with the little two year old Arya sitting on his shoulders.

"I'm cursed to drag you around forever", he said to the girl. Arya grabbed a fistful of hair in her tiny hand yanking it hard while babbling.

"Ow, watch the hair!" Clegane complained. He didn't know if she had understood him or not. But starting to lose hair at fifteen was not what he wanted.

 

* * *

 

Having the children near them became normal, the people of Winterfell could see them around the older boys almost every day. The Sept could not take Arya away and Lord Stark thought it was good for her to be in the training yard since most houses in the north taught girls to fight too.

Jorah was sitting in the stands watching a match between Jaime and Beric when Robb climbed the steps to sit beside him. He chuckled at the little Stark who couldn't see anything but didn't complain about it. The blonde picked him up and put him on his lap, Robb huddled closer with his head on Jorah's shoulder, his mop of hair reached his chin.

The match ended with Jaime winning. Another started between Thoros and a member of another House. Jaime sat near them to clean his sword. Robb gave him a side glance, giving an imperceptible move a little closer to the other side. _'He had me prisoner and I'm the one being mistrusted, incredible'_ , the former Lion thought.

"Did you know my brother Jon?" Robb asked the bear.

"Yes, I did. I fought beside him once." He said looking down.

"Tell me."

As Robb kept watching the people spar Jorah told him about the Wight Hunt. Most of them had been there so they chirped to add to the story as well. When he reached the part about Thoros death, Beric got a little sorrowful, his brother went to sit beside him.

"It's strange being brothers now", Beric told him.

Thoros gave him a side hug, "We were brothers before".

Sandor half barked in disagreement. "The _Brotherhood_ had too many loons in it to call them  _brothers_."

Thoros replied with a smirk. "And you were in it as well."

Beric laughed and taunted The Hound. "That means you're our brother too."

Theon and Arya had been listening too, thought she was not paying that much attention. None of them knew the story. Jaime laughed at Sandor for throwing rocks at the army of the dead and causing their attack.

"How was I supposed to know that the fuckers would come after that?"

"Maybe next time you should take a sling."

Robb asked more about the dragons, he didn't get the chance to see them and Theon had tried to explain but they still didn't seem real. So he asked Jorah to tell him all about them.

Jorah was happy to comply. He told him how the hatched, how little they were at the beginning showing Robb with his hands the size of the beasts, how sometimes when they learned to fly short distances they would go from Daenerys shoulder to someone else's and how Drogon had a nick for biting his ear when he landed on him, how Rhaegal clawed his way up people's bodies instead of flying and how Viserion slept on the girl's hand curled around like a cat.

It was good for Jorah to remember those times when everything was easier despite the hardship. He felt that until then his relationship with Daenerys was better because she was oblivious to the cause of his devotion and he never planned on telling her either. The Khaleesi was softer, sweeter and she showed her love in a less repressed way towards him. The Queen was an entirely different person, she gave him restrained words and colder touches if she even gave any. That was what he could remember most.

After his mistake in Qarth their relationship was strained. He really should have kept his mouth shut. Maybe then Daenerys wouldn't have reminded him at every step that he was her Knight just to make sure that he didn't get the wrong ideas.

Jorah realized that he should have fought a little more for himself the first time. Now his feelings for her were not there to cloud his judgement anymore, so he saw his previous life memories as objectively as a stranger could. It was disheartening to think of all it so he focused on telling Robb more about the dragons.


	8. VIII. For Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor's new task, a game and a conversation with a small wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, it's been a havoc trying to find where I wrote the continuation to the previous chapter, but now that i've FINALLY FOUND IT, I can calm down again.
> 
> And... I'm going to edit some of the previous chapters because i've noticed some mistakes here and there. So... At some point I might leave a note in the description of the fic or on the notes of the chapters that are coming later. Just letting you know.

 

Sandor came into the Godswood with three kids in tow grumbling to himself. The Septa had caught up to him to give him three tiny coats and food for them. He was still trying to understand how the woman suddenly was fast enough to follow him across a castle.

 

Jaime saw him coming and laughed. "I didn't know you were a nursemaid."

 

Sandor dropped everything on him with a glare, "You think you're funny?"

 

"Actually, yes, I think I am." Jaime gave him a satisfied grin, putting the coats and basket next to him.

 

Meanwhile, Sandor ranted about the old Septa that was supposed to take care of the children and had found a way to make it his role.

 

“I think she doesn’t like us much.” Rosy cheeked Theon said as he put little Arya down from his back to sit on a log.

 

“And why would that be?” Thoros asked him.

 

Theon pointed with his little hands to his siblings and himself. “Arya bites and spits, Robb kicks and she has heard Robb and me calling her hag after she pester us for misbehaving. She calls us brats when no one else is hearing.” 

 

Arya wobbled around before sitting herself on top of the pile of coats next to Jaime, rambling nonsense that they couldn't understand while twirling a twig in her chubby little hands. 

 

“If you even think about biting me _or_ spitting me, I will kill your ugly cat.” Jaime warned her. He would be making them a favour. It was a monstrous thing, too big to be a cat, red eyes, an abhorrent mood and hissed at anyone that deemed to walk by it as if everyone was trying to attack it. Arya stopped her movement altogether to stare back at him before cackling and continuing with her musing.

 

Robb made a wide berth around the group avoiding Jaime and sat next to Theon on a cut down log looking at all of them with curiosity. He had a little carved toy that their mother had given him that morning. It was only a little soldier like the ones they had at their rooms, yet he had refused to let go of it the entire day because it had the house sigil of their mother’s family painted on it. He proudly showed it to Jorah and Tormund beaming as they told him they wished they had a toy like that when they were small.

 

“At least that old _hag_ gave me enough food for all of us.” Sandor rummaged around the basket taking bread and cheese out of it. He started munching as the rest passed the basket between them to take food for themselves.

 

Jaime took a lemon cake and handed it to Arya to stop her incomprehensible chatering. She started eating it with a smile forgetting her mutterings. “Since when two year olds speak this much?” He complained to his brother.

 

Sandor shrugged. “I would rather this than her silence.” He changed to voice to sound more somber. “That would mean she’s planning to murder you.”

 

“I would like to think that I’m safe from a little infant girl.” Jaime answered arrogantly.

 

“For now.” Beric half whispered to himself.

 

* * *

 

The library in Winterfell had grown exponentially in size. It had transformed into a single turret with about five floors filled with rows upon rows of books and parchments. From the ground floor where the tables were anyone could see the people walking above searching for knowledge.

 

Sometimes they were secluded in the library looking for old books that were interesting. It was more a game than actual interest that consisted in taking one book that was written after their deaths and comparing it with the ones the others had. The person who had the most peculiar tome won the game.

 

Theon walked around the staircase looking around, he could barely read so he played the game but he could only see the volumes at his height, it wasn’t much. Tormund had scouted him to help him to win since he didn’t feel like kneeling to see the tomes on the lower shelves. And having a little child who could do it for him was all the advantage he needed.

 

Jaime was the first to find one that satisfied him, so he sat down on one of the tables to wait for the others. Slowly the others started going down the stairs as well. All of them with one odd thing they had found in the place. The last ones they waited for were Tormund and Jorah.

 

As the others chatted about, the two Mormonts were having trouble finding something that was extraordinary or from after their previous lives.

 

“Did you find anything?” Tor screamed across floors to his brother.

 

Jorah looked down from the very top of the turret. “Not yet.”

 

“Hurry up, we are going to miss supper.” Someone from below warned them both. Probably Sandor, Jorah thought to himself.

 

He kept searching, touching the back of the tomes as he read them, taking the ones without a title to see what they were about, peering down at the ones that looked weird enough on the outside to be so on the inside. In the end, he found a book about the farmer rising of The Riverlands. It ended because all of the farmers had gone to a feast to negotiate with their lords and accidentally ingested the casket of wine that they were going to use to poison the lords along with them.

 

The only survivors of the rising in the noble houses were the descendants that were not allowed to go to the feast and the few people that had refused wine because they prefered mead instead. Jorah huffed a laugh at it. The man responsible for it appeared to be drunk even before the banquet and was asleep as the others drank the poison during the night. He woke from the feast to be one of the few alive. The man was beheaded for treason. That seemed a sad way to end up in a book.

 

Content with his finding, Jorah went down the stairs to see Tormund arguing with small Theon about the books they had in their hands.

 

“Are you truly using Theon to help you? That’s cheating, Tor.” He laughed at his brother as he passed by them.

 

“Not if no one finds out.” Tormund wickedly smiled.

 

In the end, Jorah won because the story was one that Thoros and Beric remembered their mother, a riverlander and great great great granddaughter of one of the survivors, used to tell them. There was even a song about it that they couldn’t quite remember.

 

As they left the library, Theon turned to Tor and criticized before leaving. “You should have used my book.”

 

“I swear Greyjoy was more likeable the last time.” Tormund grouched to his brother.

 

Jorah understood exactly what he meant. “He can be a bit haughty at times.”

 

“Only a bit?” Tormund huffed before leaving as well.

 

* * *

 

“Why are we here?” Robb asked suddenly one day. The clearness of his speech made them aware that the Young Wolf was the one talking instead of the wild four year old boy they knew.

 

He seemed to have moments of clarity in which he remembered who he was before and moments of complete oblivion where he would forget having another life at all but the remains of it were still circling around his mind. They could tell because he would grow sullen on those moments, he would get angry at Theon for anything, even when playing and would leave after screaming at him for some small mistake, he also had changes in the way he talked and walked.

 

The only constant he had was his mistrust for Jaime Giantsbane, because he knew that Arya referred to him as Jaime Lannisters and on the days he was oblivious there was something in the back of his mind that told him to never trust a Lannister. It wasn’t something that Jaime enjoyed much, yet there was nothing he could do.

 

“You mean in the Godswood?” Beric eyed him from the place he was sitting.

 

Robb glanced at him. “No. I mean here, now. Why are we here again?”

 

“Why do you think we would be here again?” Thoros asked him across the circle they were sitting in.

 

“I don’t know. To do something we didn’t do before?” He asked at all of them.

 

“In a way, yes.” Thoros said back.

 

“And do you know what it is?” He looked at the Mormonts.

 

Both of them grew uncomfortable. The group hadn’t talked yet about what they were going to do when Robb started asking questions about their purpose in this life.

 

“Yes, but it is not something you should be worrying yourself with right now.” Jorah told him.

 

“When do I have to worry, then?”

 

“We will tell you when. Alright?” Jorah put his hand on the top of his head in comfort like he did with Joel sometimes.

 

“Alright.” Robb answered before sauntering to play with Theon and their wooden swords.

 

The older boys talked about ways to breach the subject to him in small amounts so they wouldn’t scare the infant but in the correct way for him to interpret what they needed him to know. Though, if they could wait until he was older it would be best. Maybe he would get distracted like most children his age and forget, they all hoped. But they knew that the Young Wolf was not someone who would wait for them to be ready. So they would look for books that might talk about The Long Night in the Winterfell library and start from the information they could collect there.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages:
> 
> 15 Jorah/Sandor  
> 14 Jaime/Thoros  
> 12 Tormund/Beric  
> 11 Joel  
> 5 Theon  
> 4 Robb  
> 2 Arya
> 
> Also, I was talking about my cat and for some reason another cat, that's famous, came to mind.

**Author's Note:**

> By the end of this chapter  
> Jorah is 15  
> Tormund is 12  
> Joel is 11


End file.
